


Stay With Me

by LunarAsylum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Broken Dean, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel learns that he can get so much more when he learns what he deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really in the mood to destroy peoples' souls with angst.

Two bodies fell through the door, laughter and the ruffling of fabric drowning the clattering of keys and shoes. They shared the intimacy of best friends, but the closeness of lovers as they swayed their way to the couch, which groaned beneath the weight of them. The air was heavy between them, thick with alcohol and unspoken desires.

 

“I really appreciate you lettin' me stay here,” slurred the shorter man, a hand sloppily landing on the broad shoulders of the other man. “Not sure I'd be safe in a cab by m'self.”

 

A hazel gaze stole the curves of his face and jawline, his fingers twitching in want as he glanced away. There was an invisible line that was only ever spoken of, but in silence, and he knew he shouldn't tip toe around it for the fear of losing his balance and falling into the abyss of all that was wrong with this position.

 

The understanding that this wasn't a problem had been met long before they had made it in Sam's front door. A crooked grin had convinced him that nothing could go wrong, but within the chasm of his soul, he had known that it was what had told him everything would go wrong. The same vision was in front of him, a little clearer now that time had passed without alcohol to haze the maze of his thoughts.

 

Navigation was much easier now as he leaned forward, his hands following and passing his lips, cupping shadowed cheeks. Lips finally caught up, claiming a little of what they wanted, but only for a moment. The liquor wasn't quite integrated enough into Cas' decisions to sway him to the bad side.

 

“What are you doing? You know I'm with your brother,” he said, his words a little clearer with shock. The bewilderment that reflected within the depths of his icy gaze pulled Sam back to Earth, his hands dropping to his lap as he sagged into himself.

 

“He doesn't deserve you.”

 

Thoughts proclaimed themselves through dry lips, tasting the air for the first time. They relished in it, bathing in the freedom, and decided to soak.

 

“Dean doesn't do what he should,” he said, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips and creasing his face.

 

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, his eyes squinting in confusion, giving him the appearance of a lost puppy.

 

“He doesn't love you right. I don't think he loves you,” Sam said, blunt and to the point, his thoughts finally ruling his tongue. The older man looked taken aback by that, hurt instantly striking his features. The emotional injuries tore from the inside out, making faces at the edges of his skin, taunting his doubts and fears.

 

“What?” he whispered, causing eyes to focus back on him, and they were shining with tears just like his own.

 

“I don't know. I just know he doesn't give you what you deserve. You deserve the world, Cas, and all he can think of is what you add to his world,” the younger replied, his tone almost desperate for the other to understand.

 

“We've been together for so long,” Cas reasoned, trying to make sense of the last eight years of his life. Had Dean really kept him around because he added convenience to his lifestyle?

 

“What does time mean if it was selfish? Time exists for the purposes of others, and when has he ever really given you something you wanted, Cas? Think about it, _really_ think about it,” he swayed his words, appeasing the inner desires of the man across from him. He had known him almost as long as his brother, and he felt that he knew him better than Dean ever would.

 

“I _see_ you, Cas. I see your hurts, and your needs, and all I have ever wanted for you is happiness, but I can't sit by any longer. I can't watch you give everything to him, and get nothing in return.”

 

“Sam, what are you saying?” Cas asked, his tone stark and afraid. He already knew the answer. It tingled beneath the surface of his skin, imitating numbness as if it would lessen the blow of the words. 

 

“He doesn't deserve you, Cas, but I want to deserve you. I want to give you everything you deserve and more. I want to be the one that makes you happy,” the younger Winchester said, his face flushed with alcohol and emotion, glossy eyes only focused on him. 

 

Discomfort settled into his nervous system, causing various parts of him to twitch in his flight mode. He wanted to run, let his legs take flight and return him to the side he belong to. His body burned with the emptiness of Dean's next to his, yet his heart ached and pleaded for what Sam was promising him. 

 

The taller was upon him in moments, as if he could read the desires of his body, lips claiming him. He didn't pull away this time, need propelling him into the arms of someone secure. His back arched over the arm of the couch, an elbow touching the glass of the side table, reminding him of his limits. 

 

Breathes were passed between lips when Sam pulled away, just enough that his eyes came into focus, allowing him the best view into his soul. 

 

“Will you allow me to love you?” he asked, and for some reason, that caused a dull, yet painful ache in Cas' chest. Tears welled into his eyes in an instant, a half-hearted sob escaping his mouth as he nodded, needing someone to love him. 

 

Lips descending upon his, stealing his breath and his devotion for the night, hands gentle and questioning. He couldn't help but compare it to Dean's rough and animalistic grasps and digs into his flesh. It was a welcome easiness, allowing him to fall into an ocean of contentment and relaxation. 

 

Breaths of desire and satisfaction puffed up in the air, whispering needs to Sam, of which the younger Winchester complied, fulfilling all he could in their finite position. Wetness touched him in places that had long been neglected in the haste of a passionate, but rough mockery of love. His fingers engulfed themselves in the lush hair that Sam had, squeezing and tugging gently to guide his lips. It was a new sensation to feel as if he had control over his own pleasure, and it only increased his hunger for more.

 

Sam pulled away with a light smack, the skin feeling tight and hot, and he had a feeling a mark would be there by the end of all this. 

 

“Cas?” he whispered, the gentleness caressing him the way he would have expected from his lover. “Let's take this to my room.”

 

Blindly, he allowed himself to be pulled up off the couch, tenderly being led to the bedroom. His eyes soaked in everything around him, and he realized just how much Sam meant to him in a way he had never identified before. Kindness had always been Sam's greatest gift, but he had always been oblivious to the nuances of his gentle soul until now. 

 

“Sam,” he started, his words finding themselves lost on his tongue. His eyes locked onto hazel fields, find himself lost in an endless world of swaying grass and warm sunlight. A kiss aroused him back to reality, and his hands gripped the other's shoulders for stability. The ground felt weightless beneath his feet, setting him off balance, making up seem down. 

 

Muscles flexed beneath his finger tips, causing his eyes to focus on Sam's actions, watching as long fingers grasped at the hem of his shirt, toying with it momentarily before raising it to reveal flesh. He flushed with embarrassment and heat, his muscles trembling in his arms as he grasped tighter. Eventually, he had to raise his own arms, his shirt being pulled over his head, and falling to the floor with a flutter.

 

He felt vulnerable, standing shirtless in front of Sam, and he couldn't explain why. This was not the first time they had been exposed in front of each other. He assumed the intimacy fueled the inexplicable emotions inflating his chest, causing him to swell until he released a long, overdue breath. 

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, worry lacing through the musicality of his wispy voice. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas responded, his own tone breathless as he tried to focus on the current events, or perhaps he was trying to lessen his focus. “I just... this is different.”

 

“This is how it should be,” the Winchester whispered, a smile tugging lightly at his face. 

 

“Is it?” he asked, unconvinced. Things had never been like this with Dean, or anyone else he had been with. It had always been rushed, fervor driving them into the abyss of fiery passion. Languid and slow was a new concept to him, and it was overloading his senses. The high was taking him to new places, making him feel on edge and nervous. 

 

“Yes. You deserve the best,” Sam murmured, the affection between them not lost on his skin. Caresses traced new emotions into his skin, leaving him weightless. Lips bled confidence into his soul, placing love in places long forgotten along his shoulders and chest. He had never had this much attention paid to him, but he couldn't help but long for it as Sam relished in loving every inch of his skin. 

 

“Why?” he exhaled, his hands hanging forgotten at his sides. Air embraced him where Sam didn't, his body aching for something solid. 

 

“Why what?” Sam asked, lips paying special attention the light definition of his abs. 

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

“I love you,” came the response, setting his nerves on point, like knives pressed against his veins, threatening to spill precious life. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Are you kidding me?”

 

Azure eyes looked lost as they were met with sadness and heartbreak. 

 

“Cas, why do you think it's so hard for me to love you?”

 

“Because I'm with your brother,” he responded, his tone aching for the known. He felt lost and immature, his brain wandering for what was comfortable. 

 

“And that's supposed to stop me feeling? Cas, it's never been that easy. I've spent six years of my life devoted to making sure that you got what Dean can't give you. He's a broken man, and he can't provide for himself half the time. I know he can't give you what you need,” Sam spoke, sincerity drowning the air and suffocating him with emotion. 

 

Another sob erupted from him involuntarily, shaking his entire body. Within seconds, he was engulfed by arms and a chest, and his hands grasped the clothe between them, willing himself to find steady ground. He didn't deserve any of this; he didn't deserve Sam's dedication. 

 

“Baby,” he heard, shocking him out of his self pity. “It'll be okay. I promise you. Just let me love you.”

 

It took a moment to quiet his doubts, shoving them underneath the palms of Sam's hands which rested securely against his bare shoulders. For some reason, it just felt right, and he didn't want to deny it. A silent nod gave the Winchester the permission he sought, and he immediately moved to take care of Cas. 

 

Within minutes, a bare body was laid on the bed, displayed proudly for Sam's viewing, which he took full advantage of. The pink tint to Cas' cheeks displayed his discomfort, and the younger needed to replace it with confidence. His hands laid waste to the body in front of him, learning every inch that was available to him.

 

Gasps and mewls bounced off every wall, immersing Sam in a constant state of desire and urgency. Fingers found crevices and curves that even Cas didn't know he had, forging want into every fiber of his being. He had never been loved like this, and he didn't know how much more he could take.

 

“Please,” he whispered, licking his lips as he looked down his naked body to Sam's face. It was oddly arousing to see lips pressed against his thigh, hands grasping and massaging his calf. This level of intimacy was lost on him as he received a smile, hands running up his leg and squeezing his thigh.

 

“Please what?” Sam asked, his tone searching. For what, Cas didn't know, but he just wanted to appease him.

 

“Fuck me,” he pleaded, licking his lips again in an attempt to entice the Winchester to fulfill his desires.

 

“Cas, baby, I'm not going to fuck you,” the Winchester murmured, causing a whimper to erupt from his throat. It felt like torture to have been taken all this way for nothing. Within moments, his entire body was canvased by Sam's, which was still fully clothed. A mouth was breathing slowly at his ear, distracting him from his arousal for just a moment.

 

“I'm going to love you like you've never been loved before. You will never forget this night,” he murmured against the shell of Cas' ear, earning a gasp as jeans against bare skin emphasized his point. 

 

His skin flared with a renewed arousal as he let his arms encircle the younger man, imploring him to give his body everything. There was a sudden lack of connection, a whimper retreating from his throat as he longed for more. The sound of fabric rustling and landing on the floor was a gentle reminder of what was to come, and soon after, he was joined by an equally naked Sam. 

 

They kissed, hands exploring what was once thought to be known. It was slow and careful, taking precedence over the impending sexual act. Fingers found niches uncharted, declaring them as property of the other. Lips and breaths fondled skin and hair, blurring the line between lust and love as they laid against each other. 

 

It seemed as if hours had passed as they lied there, taking in everything about the other, learning to love every perfection and flaw there was. Skin crawled and ached for more, finally coercing mouths to speak on its behalf.

 

“Please,” Cas protested, arching against Sam.

 

“Please what?”

 

“Fuck me,” he whined. 

 

“No.”

 

It took him moments to figure out why he was being denied, but his lips formed the proper question, letting it cascade to the sheets.

 

“Love me,” he begged, azure eyes shining with tears and desire. A smile caressed lips and his body as compliance was finally given. There was a pause as Sam reached over to his nightstand, grabbing the appropriate things for their escape.

 

Sweat stank heavy between them, but none of that mattered as he willingly spread himself thin for the younger Winchester. Fingers swiftly adjusted him, his body wanton, arching and crying for him. Sam worked as quickly as he was comfortable with, not wanting to push Cas too far. He whispered adulation for him, placing kisses along his chest and stomach to ease him into love. 

 

“Baby,” he murmured, his fingers and hands taking care of Cas as he whined and shimmied for more. “Patience.” 

 

A whine greeted him in response, causing him to smile and chuckle lightly as he decided to work quicker. Licking his lips, he made a trail of kisses down Cas' body, eventually finding his way to his inner thigh, nipping and tugging at the flesh gently. That earned him a groan of satisfaction, which easily fell into despair as he retracted his hand. 

 

Sitting on his haunches, he lewdly lapped at his fingers for show, eyes locked on the skies that were distracted by his mouth. Quirking his lips, he made quick work of the condom, rolling it down his cock, swallowing the groan that tried to escape. He wanted Cas to be the only thing that made him moan this evening. 

 

Adjusting his position, he let his hands grasp at well rounded hips, lifting them for his advantage. Letting his knees keep Cas' ass propped off the bed, he guided himself into the other with a low, keening groan. A moan greeted him, swallowing him whole, causing a shudder to run down his spine. He would never understand how Dean could take the man for granted. 

 

“Move!” Cas cried, shifting his hips in want for more, and Sam complied for both their sakes. An easy motion began between them, and it seemed it was too slow for the smaller man, but he wanted to take his time and truly live for this moment. 

 

Shameless cries and moans echoed around him, enveloping him in their passion as he slid in and out of Cas, his mouth still exploring the new territory. He wanted to memorized every bit of flesh the man had. He wanted his fingers to recognized him by the bumps of scars, and his eyes to read his thoughts in the shadows of his movements.

 

Languid kisses soaked Cas in adoration, only adding to the pleasure mounting within him. It was slow to build, only making the ache that much worse as he writhed beneath his lover. Flesh against flesh reminded him of the realness, letting him drown in attention being paid to him. He paid his respects to the Winchester, moaning and crying for more, muscles flexing in need.

 

Their pace escalated, grunts and groans slapping with skin, sinking to the bone and fulfilling appetites. It wasn't too long before Sam came with a long, low cry, his body shuddering as his hands grasped for sanity. His body throbbed with need and that only increased when he was left feeling hollow. 

 

That sensation didn't last long as Sam's mouth descended on him taking in all of him, urging a moan from his mouth. Fingers and toes curled at the unknown feeling, nearly causing him to burst. A skilled tongue only surmounted the pleasure, overtaking every fiber of his being. An earthquake took him, a foreign sound extracted from him as gentle hands coaxed everything out of him. 

 

He was left breathless as his eyes focused hazily on the ceiling, and it took him time to realize that a body was laid neatly next to his. He turned his head, inches between him and Sam.

 

“That was amazing,” he murmured, emotion leading him down this dangerous path.

 

“Good,” Sam said breathlessly, a smile teasing his face. There was a certain tense restraint, though, and it creased his brow as he rolled to his side.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked, soberness having returned to him. 

 

“I love you, and you don't love me back,” he said, stated much like fact. It caused an unfamiliar pang of guilt within him. 

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't. Don't apologize for something you can't control. I knew what I was doing when I asked you here. Nothing is your fault,” he whispered, his tone urging honesty into his bones. It made him throb even more with guilt. 

 

“But I should.”

 

“You should what?”

 

“I should love you. I've never been treated like that. No one has ever shown me that kind of treatment before,” he said quietly, his heart racing at the thoughts and images. Even now, it was hard to believe it had happened.

 

“Don't,” Sam pleaded. “Don't put that on yourself. There's no obligation here. I know that tomorrow you go back to Dean, and this will only be a dream, okay? Don't make this harder than it needs to be.”

 

Tears coated a red face at that point, and arms enveloped Cas in attempts to comfort him. Whispers of security and love melted into his ear, gently persuading him into sleep. They slept together, chest to chest, arms encircled around the other. It was comfortable for that time, but when Cas woke the next morning, not only did his head ache, but his arms felt numb. 

 

It was easy to slip away, guilt radiating and drowning the atmosphere. He eased into his clothes, tip toeing from the room as Sam remained asleep. His phone didn't dial a cab until he was outside, the door knob locked as the only security for the home. 

 

Within ten minutes, a yellow car encompassed him, taking him home where he knew he had to confess his sins. Guilt gnawed at the edge of everything he was, and he knew that it would be the worst morning of his life, but he would much rather take it sooner than later. He knew he deserved Dean's wrath and disappointment. 

 

Half-way through his ride, he had firmly decided to keep Sam's name out of it, having devised the perfect lie that he had ditched the other Winchester to go home with a stranger. It would make sense with the fact that he was taking a cab home. His eyelids were heavy with fear as the car slowed and stopped before his house. 

 

Cash slid from his fingers, and words fell mindlessly out of his mouth as he climbed from the cab. Step after step, he entered his home, an expectant Dean sitting on the couch, awaiting an explanation.

 

“No text. No call. Where were you?” came the beginning of the interrogation. This happened when he was out late or all night, even if he was with a trusted mutual person. 

 

“I was with another man,” he said, pain leaking into his words as he moped to the chair opposite Dean. He didn't dare look him in the face, for fear of accepting the disapproval. 

 

“You were _what_?” snarled the older Winchester, his green eyes lined with dark circles. It only encouraged his guilt. 

 

“I slept with another man. I know. I know what I did was wrong, and I—“

 

“You _know_!?” Dean snapped, his voice loud and furious. “If you knew, you wouldn't have done it!”

 

“I know, I know, but Dean—“ 

 

“There is no 'but' here, Cas. You're a fucking sneak and whore.”

 

The words fell like nothing, hitting the floor with the force of a feather. 

 

“I know.”

 

“Fucking slut. Who was it?”

 

“I don't know his name. I never bothered to ask,” he murmured, his head bowed. His eyes focused on the separation of the floor boards beneath his feet, memorizing the uneven lines. 

 

“God, Cas, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

 

“I don't know. I just needed—“

 

“You needed what? Something I couldn't give you? Tell me what I can't give you, Cas,” he growled, having scooted to the edge of his seat on the couch at this point. 

 

“I don't know, Dean, but I just know that I did wrong, and I know, Dean, I know. You don't want me here anymore. I know. I'll leave, and you won't have to see me again,” he whimpered, saying all he could to appease the other. He had learned long ago that pretending to having been wrong always worked.

 

“You're right. You should pack you shit and go,” he heard, and his heart shattered. 

 

“What?”

 

“You should go. I'm done,” Dean said, standing from his position on the sofa. “I waited here all night for you, and instead I find out that I'm not good enough for you. You should go back to him, whoever he is, because he deserves the piece of shit you are.”

 

A choked breath escaped his lips, his eyes not sure what to focus on to keep him grounded. Everything he had been for the past several years had just disappeared in an instant. His head hanging with shame and remorse, he meandered into the bedroom, grabbing his duffel bag, shuffling between the closet and the bed, haphazardly tossing clothes into it. 

 

Once he made sure his necessities were in the bag, he zipped it slowly, his fingers unsure and numb. The strap was foreign against his shoulder as he sauntered from the room, avoiding the gaze of Dean as he headed towards the door. 

 

A glance backwards was greeted with a scoff, and an encouragement to leave. Tears burned his eyelids and skin as he cracked the door open, sliding between it and the frame. A click closed the chapter of his life as he headed nowhere. His phone vibrated uselessly in his pocket, his feet carrying him where ever he went. 

 

Meanwhile, Dean was broken, hands covering his face as he sank into his couch. He didn't understand why everyone he had ever been with had left him for someone else. It didn't make sense to him. He was the only common denominator in all of this, so that meant he had to be the problem, right?

 

The shrill scream of his cell phone aroused him, encouraging his buried rage as he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. 

 

“Hello?” he growled, only to be greeted by the voice of Sam. 

 

“Oh you did a marvelous job watching my boyfriend last night. Or I could say, ex-boyfriend,” he snapped into the receiver, met with a silence, before his brother spoke.

 

“What?”

 

“What, you didn't know that he sneaked off with another man last night?” Dean snarled, his phone gripped uncomfortably in his hand.

 

“Dean, he came home with me. What did he tell you?”

 

Realization sank in, dropping him into a cold fury, his body trembling slightly. 

 

“He what?” he asked, wanting clarification before he exploded.

 

“He came home with me. Dean, what the hell happened? I can't get a hold of him,” Sam said, his voice full of sleep and concern. 

 

“Oh, I kicked the lying slut out. We're fucking done,” Dean snapped, slapping his brother into a moment of silence. 

 

Fear and realization soaked their bones as they felt their phone become one with them, the impending exchange of words frightening for both. 

 

“Sammy, we gotta talk,” Dean said after a few moments, leaving them both hanging by threads. “I expect to see you here in fifteen minutes.”

 

The wrath translated well through the speaker, dropping dread into his bones like marrow. 

 

“Okay.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The air felt thicker than his bones, crushing his lungs as he stepped inside his brother's apartment. A sudden inability to make eye contact made things more tense as he stepped past Dean, his shoulders shrinking into him. 

 

A hand told him to sit with a false offer. Inhaling deeply, it took him moments to regain his breath. 

 

“You want to explain to me why you slept with him?”

 

His voice was oddly calm, betraying the rage that simmered beneath the surface. The same rage that had been present during their childhood; that had ended up putting Dean into therapy and anger-management classes. Obviously, they had done some work, as Cas had made it out of the house seemingly unharmed. 

 

“What other 'why' can I give you other than I wanted to,” Sam replied, sarcasm clipping his syllables short. It felt ignorant to have this conversation, but he had a feeling it was some method of closure for his brother. He felt very little guilt for what he had done, despite Dean being his brother.

 

It hurt him more to think of Cas being hurt than anything his brother could suffer next to death. He knew he was being selfish, and for once, he was alright with it. His mind vibrated with worry, only focused on finding out where Cas had gone. He coughed, swallowing thickly in an attempt to rehydrate his throat. 

 

“And why would you want to sleep with a man you know is with your brother? Have you two been fucking all along?” Dean asked, lines creasing his face in distress. Bewilderment married Sam's face, falling into every pore.

 

“What? No, god, no,” he said, his hands balling up in his lap as a reflex. Jade eyes were locked on him with skepticism, narrowed and shaded by eyebrows. 

 

“Remind me why I'd believe you,” his brother said, his own fists now curled, creating unease in his guy. 

 

“Because I'm your brother,” Sam replied, and he was immediately met with a wave of anger.

 

“Yeah, my brother who slept with my boyfriend,” he said ferociously, his whole body teetering on the edge of his seat. “My brother who betrayed my trust and took away the only stable thing in my life!”

 

“So you could destroy who he was?!” Sam countered, his body tense, ready for the fight that was to ensue.

 

“Don't talk like you know my relationship,” Dean snarled, earning a scoff from his brother.

 

“Oh I know more than you give me credit for, Dean. Did you ever realize that five nights out of seven, he was on the phone, taking an hour to two hour walk? How much did you actually pay attention to him?” the younger Winchester hissed. “He was on the phone with me. Talking about his fears and doubts with you. Eight years of doubts is a lot, Dean.”

 

Those words bit, and latched onto Dean's skin, tearing apart what little he had left of self-control. Instantly, he was on his feet, met by his brother who took up the defense. A fist connected with his forearm, Sam's free hand twisting to grab his wrist, turning and pinning it against Dean's back, his other hand grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt to hold him still.

 

“Don't fuck with me, Dean,” he growled into his ear. “You will lose.”

 

A head connected with his face, causing blood to well up and drip from his nose as he released his brother in order to gain distance. His left hand raised to collect the blood in his palm and protect his potentially broken nose. 

 

“Don't _fuck with you_?! You've beyond fucked with me, Sammy. Have you destroyed my other relationships too? Did you sleep with them, too? Are you the son of a bitch who seeded the lies and doubt?” Dean growled, as he advanced on his brother, grabbing the front of his shirt. 

 

A table was knocked askew, the contents clattering the floor as the taller man was shoved up against a wall. 

 

“Just how much of my life have you fucked up!?”

 

“Excuse me, Dean, but you make your own choices and fuck up your own shit,” Sam snapped, his hands grasping the shorter's wrists in attempt to regain control of their struggle. 

 

“Yes, because I chose for Mom to die,” Dean said, the hurt and anger making sweet love to fragile emotions. The impact of those words took Sam's breath away, causing buried grief to raise up and give him hell. 

 

“Don't you _dare_ bring that up to support your inadequacy,” he said, his voice trembling with sadness and anger. He managed to shove his brother away, his hand coming up to wipe his nose, wincing at the pain that sprouted up. 

 

“Why not? It's just one more thing you ruined for me,” Dean said, his hands laying limply at his sides. 

 

“This isn't about _you_ , Dean, this is about Cas! This is about how he felt you didn't care enough about him to think he could talk you! This is about how your anger overwhelms anything you may actually feel for him, because emotions are a fucking weakness for you! You can't stand the fact that you _want_ to love him, but you _can't_.”

 

Every word was a fresh slap in his face, stirring the oceans of insecurities into anguish, which quickly turned to hatred and rage. 

 

“Fuck you,” he spat, lips curling in. “I love that man more than you can imagine!”

 

“And that's why you kicked him out, for one fucking mistake. He doesn't deserve your anger, Dean. I do, but he doesn't,” Sam said, his tone weeping. “You don't really know what he's like, do you?”

 

The younger could see the words twitching in his brother's jawline, clearly wanting to negate everything he had said. 

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked after several moments of anger crackled between them. “I know him, Sammy, I do.”

 

“Then you would've known that kicking him out is the worst thing you could've done. I half expect that if he told you he cheated on you, he was already blaming himself, and he wanted you to fix that. Not secure it in place,” Sam said, sadness puffing his lips into a slight pout. 

 

“Why are you trying to demean my relationship with him?” Dean asked, fury still trembling in his finger tips, but misery quivering in his words. 

 

“Because you did that so long ago. You've neglected him in every possible way, and he told me he felt you couldn't focus on him because it was always about you.”

 

“I love him.”

 

“Maybe you should show him that instead of saying it. Words are only words, actions take conviction,” Sam said as a last resort. “I'm not here to ruin anything for you, Dean. I'm really not. Do I feel sorry for what I did? No, but I have no real reason to. He was in pain, and he felt alone. I gave him the choice and he took it.”

 

“Do you think that makes it any better?!” Dean snapped, rage fueled again as he glared at his brother. “That just makes it worse that he _chose_ you over me. What makes you so much better than me?!”

 

Sam released a breath, his eyes searching for an answer aimlessly in the air. 

 

“Dean, why are you assuming that this is a contest? He didn't chose me over you, because he came back to you. We both knew that last night was nothing to him. That man loves you more than time,” Sam said exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair. “Why can't you understand this?”

 

There was a look of shock on Dean's face as his brother's words hit him and sank beneath his skin. It was hard for him to comprehend that Cas could love him and cheat on him. 

 

“How does someone cheat on someone they love?” the older Winchester asked, his words lost amidst his confusion and fury haze. 

 

“For him, I think it was so he didn't grow to hate you,” Sam murmured, looking down. “About two weeks ago, we were talking, and he was telling me about a fight you guys had gotten in. How immediately you had turned into how he should feel obligated to do things for you because of how hard your life has been. He said it made him want to hate you.”

 

The argument was clear like a fresh wound, searing his thoughts painfully as he grimaced. He hadn't noticed it, but that was definitely what he had done. It killed him to know that maybe Sam was right. Running a hand over his face, the smell of blood permeated his senses, making him nauseous and he let his hand fall back to his side. 

 

“I don't know what to do,” he said after a few moments, his eyes pleading with Sam to help him. 

 

“You've got two choices,” Sam said, knowing neither would be easy. “You can either go find him, and you can apologize for everything you don't know you've done wrong and try to fix what you both have put eight years into, or you can let him go. You can let him go, and hope that he finds his way to what he deserves.”

 

“If I let him go, are you going to pursue him?”

 

“That's your concern?”

 

“When I'm pretty positive in my choice, yes, it is. I want to know what will happen afterward,” he snapped, pain lacing his seams together, being the only thing holding him up. 

 

Stillness weighed on the atmosphere, pushing words and emotions into the floor as the brothers stood steps apart. Contemplation was the current that ran between them, and Sam knew his answer long before he was willing to speak it. 

 

“Yes.”

 

Silence cut into both their hearts, taking their bond and skinning it to bare threads. 

 

“You should go, then,” Dean said, his weary body sinking into his couch. Shaking hands raised to cradle his head, and Sam could tell his brother was crying at that point. Everything in him told him to stay with Dean, to comfort him the way brothers were supposed to, but words cut that ideal down. 

 

“Dean, I—“

 

“Just go. Go, before he self-harms or something. He has that tendency. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into,” Dean said, not taking his eyes away from the floorboards. 

 

His emotions fled long before his body did, hesitation keeping his feet glued, but a shout of 'Go!' kicked him out the door. Immediately, his phone was in his hand, dialing the last number he'd called, Cas' image popping up on the screen as it rang. His heart ached in fear of what Cas could be doing to himself. 

 

Fortunately, though, after five back-to-back calls, the other finally picked up, tear-choked words croaked into the receiver.

 

“Cas! Cas, where are you?” he asked, concern and worry dressing his question. He received a mumbled reply which had to be repeated twice before Sam knew where to go. His car had never gone faster than it did that day, racing down streets and avoiding the law until he made it to his destination. 

 

It was a shoddy little bar, tucked in between a sex shop and a tattoo parlor; a prime spot for broken souls. He approached the door with apprehension, swinging it out and entering the building. It was cleaner on the inside than he had expected, but he hadn't expected much from a bar that was somehow legally open at 10AM. 

 

He spotted Cas almost instantly, a duffel sprawled at his feet and a large glass of liquor dancing between his fingers. The seat next to him was made unavailable, Sam claiming it as he placed a hand on Cas' arm.

 

“Cas?” he said cautiously, earning a sloppy expression. “How much have you had?”

 

“I don't know how much you can consume in an hour,” he muttered, his words heavily slurred, but it was still clear enough that he could understand him. 

 

“We should go,” he murmured, trying to urge him away from the liquor. 

 

“No. Dean will just get even more mad. I'm waiting for him to calm down,” the man mumbled, his eyes hazy with drink. It broke Sam's heart to hear that, knowing that even if he pursued the other, it was not guaranteed he would be accepted. 

 

“Cas, love, he's let you go. I was just over there. He, uh, he found out it was us,” he said quietly, and a dramatic gasp was sucked through chapped lips. 

 

“No! I was trying not to let him know it was you! He needs his brother!” Cas exclaimed, his swaying exaggerating his words. 

 

“It's fine, I promise. We'll be fine, okay? I just need you to come with me, okay? Please?” Sam coaxed, his hand tugging Cas' hand away from his drink. That was all it took to coerce him into leaving. The Winchester placed a large bill on the counter, enough to tip well and pay for Cas' bill, ignoring the protests from the man. 

 

Leaning down, he slung the duffel over his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around the older man's waist, escorting him to his car. It was hard to believe that Cas had walked here from Dean's house. Pangs of guilt and hurt squeezed his veins, short circuiting him. 

 

“Where are we going?” Cas asked, the slurring to his words almost distracting. 

 

“We're going to my house, okay? I figure you can stay there until you find yourself a place,” he said, knowing that all of this would go in, but never stay. Memories would be wiped clean, and a fresh, but painful start would begin the next morning. 

 

“Oh, 'kay,” was the response, Cas' head lolling against the headrest as he was placed in the passenger seat of Sam's car. He buckled him in, securing him, before shutting the door and circling the car. Within moments, they were on the road, taking the short drive to the Winchester's. 

 

The rest of the morning's events were a haze, and Cas was tucked in with a glass of water and Tylenol by his bed for support when he awoke later in the day. Sam had spent his time cleaning and organizing all of his things, having called into work for the evening off. 

 

By the time dinner rolled around, a groggy and clearly hungover Cas emerged from the spare bedroom, tear-stained cheeks grating at Sam's emotional barrier. 

 

“Did you drink some water?” he asked, attempting to not baby the other. He received a nod in response as the man rubbed his eyes.

 

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he muttered, tongue darting out to coat his lips. 

 

“You don't need to apologize. You needed someone there, and I was more than willing,” Sam spoke, his hand shoving a microwaveable dinner in. “I assume you're hungry? I could order something in for you, if you'd like.”

 

“After you covered my ridiculous bill at the bar? I think a TV dinner will be just fine,” he said, proving Sam wrong about his memory. “I appreciate your kindness to let me stay here.”

 

“It's nothing, really. I'm more than wi—“

 

“Willing, I know,” he said, a smile cracking at his lips. “You really did mean it when you told me you loved me.”

 

The microwave spared him his response as he pulled the meal out, stabbing it ferociously with a fork, and replacing it back in. Pressing a few buttons, the machine whirred, the inside light giving him visual access to his food. 

 

“Sam?”

 

“What? Sorry.”

 

“You love me, don't you?”

 

He bit his lip, knowing that he was able to go after Cas, but he didn't want to be the rebound. He was more than willing to let the other use his body for whatever sexual desires he had, but he wanted to try and keep his emotions out of it. 

 

“I do,” he said quietly, the microwave blaring again before Cas could respond. He dropped the dinner onto the counter with a smack. “What would you like?” 

 

The other man rounded the island to enter the kitchen, peering through his choices of food. His stomach grumbled with the rejection of alcohol, and while the idea of denying food sounded best, he knew he needed to eat. He picked a light meal, watching as Sam popped it into the microwave for him. 

 

“I'm willing to give us a try,” Cas said. Uneasiness settled into his muscles as he carefully considered the offer. As much as he didn't want to reject him, he had to push the limits. 

 

“Because you broke up with Dean?”

 

“No, because you showed me things I never knew I could have,” Cas replied, his words firm and convicted. 

 

“Sam, I don't regret last night. I should, God, I know I should, but I can't. I haven't felt that good—that comfortable—in years. I felt like you had been with me for as many years as I'd been with Dean. I want to say this isn't just me clinging to something, but I know it is. That doesn't mean it's not genuine. I care for you. Over the last couple of years, you've been there for me when Dean wasn't, and that means a lot. 

 

“I don't want to take advantage of you, so don't say yes unless you're absolutely sure, but I want to give you a chance. You deserve that and more, and I want to try and be the person to give it to you.”

 

Cas' speech gave him a little bit of a shock, and he had never envisioned the man feeling that way about him. He was honest, but he wasn't unkind. Hesitation lingered in his heart, making it flutter painfully in his chest. The microwave screamed again, but neither of them responded to it as they just took in and truly observed their opposition. 

 

“Okay,” Sam said after a few moments. “But I want to do this properly. I don't want to jump into everything just because we've known each other. It's not fair to either of us.” 

 

Cas closed the gap between them, a smile tasting his lips despite the sadness in his veins. His face was soft, gentle, just like it had always been, and it tugged on Sam's heartstrings. He just wanted to love this man until the end of his days. Even if it meant sacrificing self-happiness, he was willing to give him his all. 

 

Lips were gentle against his as Cas leaned up for a kiss, letting the sensation whisk them away from the kitchen and into a realm where they were the only things to exist. Silence surrounded them, coaxing them closer as chemical reactions went haywire. Dinner lay forgotten on the counter and in the microwave, their bodies somehow floating to Sam's bedroom. Clothes had been shed along the way, the only cause for a separation of body and mind. 

 

Hums and groans of adoration and love adorned the room, melting and painting the walls in shades of desire. The bed bounced as they fell against it in passion. Hands roamed familiar territories, tasting new flavors with renewed fervor. Tongues battled in a duel for lust, a moan escaping Cas as he lost, pinned down and flushed with heat. 

 

“Sam,” he whispered as the man loved him with his mouth. Wet kisses trailed from his clavicle down, making its way to his calves. He would never understand how someone could love all of him, but he was willing to accept it if he could give it in return. 

 

“Mmm,” Sam murmured, kissing all over his thighs and calves, fingers making new paths of adulation. “Stay with me. You don't need to find a new place.” 

 

His words came in between kisses, eyes dark and drowning in lust and need. A hum of approval was his response, only fueling his passion as he let his tongue soak flesh. A groan escaped the cavity of Cas' chest, propelled forward as his body pleaded for more. 

 

“Please,” he breathed, his hands entangled in his own hair to keep him from going wild. His plea was answered as a warm mouth engulfed his cock, pressures being applied perfectly. He would never understand how Sam knew just how to please him. His nerves went wild, basking in the heat and heartbreak, a coaxing tongue asking for more. 

 

A moan erupted, fanning through the air like smoke, blinding Sam to anything that wasn't Cas. He made careful work with his lips and mouth, hollowed cheeks obtained a cry of pleasure. A crude smack echoed in their eardrums, Sam pulling away from him as he sat back on his haunches. 

 

“What do you want?” 

 

“I want you,” Cas responded, his hands pleading with Sam's. Gentle squeezed urged the taller upwards, their faces inches apart. “I want you to love me.”

 

The Winchester was easy to comply, his mouth claiming the elder's as his hands reached blindly for the lube that was still on top of his nightstand. Emotions ran high as he slicked his fingers, forming a lewd trail from Cas' chest to his thighs. A snap resounded between them as he closed the tube, tossing it aside as a finger slid into Cas. 

 

It was enough to illicit a gasp, which his lips happily claimed, kissing him fiercely. Their lips stayed connected, except for mandatory breaths to allow them to carry on. A second finger pressed forward, stretching the muscle in a warm up for what was to come. 

 

“God, I love you,” he murmured against dry lips, adoration filling every bit of him, inflating every emotion he had twofold. He received a half-kiss in response, as he hadn't expected his emotions to be returned.

 

“I need you to love me,” Cas uttered when he was focused enough on his words. “I need you.”

 

Every word fueled Sam, giving him reason to press on as he removed his fingers, reiterating the previous night as he licked them lewdly. It earned him a half-smirk as a hand raised, stopping him half way. Gentle fingers guided his hand down, and a foreign mouth enveloped his fingers, allowing his eyes to flutter shut at the feeling. 

 

Hastily, he reached over to his nightstand, ripping the drawer open and retrieving a condom. Haphazardly, he tore the packaging open, trembling fingers withdrawing the item and quickly rolling it down his dick. His slick hand rubbed himself, coercing a soft moan out of his mouth. 

 

His body shivered as he positioned himself in between Cas' legs, fingers guiding him to heaven as he pushed inside of him. Both of them released noises, their foreheads resting against each other after a few moments. Blurry eyes exchanged reverence as they remained still, adjusting to their position.

 

“Please,” the older man urged, his hips shifting downwards. An uneasy motion began between them, but quickly developed into a cohesive rhythm, their bodies moving as one. Moans and love melted into one being, glazing the room and everything within it. Their bodies slid together like puzzle pieces, creating a sense of perfection neither of them had felt before. 

 

“Sam...” Cas moaned, his throat calling for more. Expletives cascaded like waves, washing over both of them as the pleasure mounted to an all new high, their temperatures rising. Sam felt as if he was exploding, his body aching and relaxing all at once as he came, his voice sinking into Cas' clavicle. 

 

He rode it out, shuddering against Cas with a grunt, his hands grasping the sheets for stability. Their bodies arched together, matching as Sam relaxed against him, his body feeling exhausted. It took him several moments to recompose himself as he pulled away, his mind focused on bringing the other to climax. 

 

His hand stroked him languidly, reveling in the closeness and the heat between them as moans and wordless pleas assaulted him. He welcomed everything he was given, his mouth placing love all over available surfaces. A guttural noise nearly startled him, as Cas quivered into his hand, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm. 

 

Sam eased him back to Earth with kisses in various places, ending with his lips as he gave a gentle smile. The movement was returned to him, as Cas leaned up for a prolonged, but gentle kiss. Words begged to escape his mouth, but he denied them, content with the close silence between them.

 

“I will never understand what I've done to deserve what you've given me,” Cas said after several minutes of contented naked silence.

 

“Who said you had to do anything to deserve it?” Sam murmured, placing his lips up and down his jawline in adoration. “Sometimes, you just get amazing things without having done anything in return.”

 

“It doesn't feel fair.” 

 

“Hasn't anyone taught you life isn't fair?” Sam asked, his eyes locking into the azure skies that were Cas'. 

 

“Oh, I've had that morality beat into me, but typically, I'm on the underprivileged end of the fairness spectrum,” Cas said, giving a small, pained smile.

 

“Well, now, you're on the privileged side, and I hope to show you all that it can bring you,” he said, his emotions quivering with doubt. 

 

“I look forward to being taught by you,” Cas murmured, shifting forward so that his lips greeted Sam's, laying intimacies and trust there. “I hope you teach me well.”

 

“I plan to.”

 

They remained in bed for a half hour more, dinner forgotten in the place of happiness and contentment. It was Sam who brought it back up, his stomach gurgling in need. Cas chuckled lightly as they both climbed out of bed, nude, but free of inhibition as they carried on their lives. 

 


End file.
